Archive for the ‘Booze’ Category

“Adam Lambert: You’re on the right path, but still too subtle.” That is true. I’m not really sure where Adam Lambert is coming from. With the football shoulder pads and feathers, he does look like he’s about to take the field and drive 70 yards, Adrian Peterson-style, at a moment’s notice. Oh no! What’s he doing? Forcibly kissing a guy? I think I’m supposed to be offended by how much he got in my face about that. Yawn.

I was lucky enough to meet Jane Lynch at a Hollywood premiere a couple years ago (don’t even ask how I snuck into that). I was sauced. She was incredibly nice and personable, much more so than I would’ve been had some drunk idiot been yammering my ear off.

It is almost impossible to describe how difficult it is to sit down and draw these daily, but I’m doing my best. A actor/writer friend suggested Steven Pressfield‘s book, The War of Art (which I cannot suggest enough for everyone), and it describes and names the process of Resistance- basically, that insidious little bastard that keeps you from working on your goals. The book is an invaluable weapon in the daily battle. I’ll write more on it soon, but for now, back to the Lab again.

I don’t follow college ball, mostly because I went to art school, and I don’t have an alma mater team, unless there’s a World Champion Thunderdome of Chiaroscuro or Font Kerning of which I am unaware, where you’re allowed to use a color wheel, linseed oil and a mace. (The Color-arnage!) I do, however, follow the NBA like a sterilizing rash I need to keep an eye on, lest it flare up and destroy my swimmers.

My team, the T-Wolves, is, well, agonizingly bad despite a potentially encouraging future (possible Ricky Rubio, 217 draft picks this year, Kevin Love, and an improving Corey Brewer.). And despite the fact that David Stern is, well, a wretched person (2007 Suns-Spurs debacle; the New York Ewing crapfest; the 2006 NBA Finals screw-job against Dallas- and I hate Dallas, but they were HOSED by the officials. Don’t believe me? Do a Google search for “2006 NBA Finals.” What’s the 2nd and third choices? Smoke there’s fire, son), I keep getting drawn in like a tubby kid passing Cold Stone Creamery.

I also always check out Canis Hoopus (weird, unhealthy Darko-mania indeed), the T-Wolves fan blog that has like, 20 guys on it that are either basketball savants, or they work in mind-numbingly boring jobs in Minneapolis skyways and have nothing better to do than run complicated algorithms on Evan Turner vs. John Wall. Most likely a combination of the two. Not that I’m complaining- I love the site. Makes me feel like I’m still ice-fishing instead of cursing a blue-streak at L.A. drivers. But it can be discouraging: “Yeah, I follow ball a bit.” No, you don’t, dood. Not like these guys do.

The point is this: because of the Hoopus guys salivating over the chance that the Wolves get the number one pick (we won’t- we’re McHaled- the new synonym for “doomed”) and running the numbers on Ohio State’s Evan Tuner, I was introduced to one Mark Titus, Pine-Rider Extraordinaire.

Check the style, one-time:

(Warrant song is great, but it could use a “Heaven Isn’t Too Far Away” third chorus key-change to elevate it to Code Awesome.)

KENWOODE UPDATE: Been quite the slug in 2010, I know. Just moved, had some freelance illustration to finish, and I’m finally settling down. I really do have finished pages to post, so I’ll be doing that this weekend. Promise. (Takes shot of tequila)